Mom's dementia sinks in

We're only about two months in to my mothers diagnosis of dementia (frontal lobe dementia, to be specific), and it already feels like the sickness has taken over our family dynamics like some horrible, insidious monster that glops over and ravages everything it touches. Anybody see the old movie The Blob? That's what I'm talking about.

Her decline has been startlingly rapid. It took us a good six months to even think things were bad enough to see a doctor; we remarked on the behavioural changes for up to a year before that. And now, suddenly, she's unable to drive; to cook; to read a book.

While my mother seems blissfully unaware of her illness, and unembarrassed by her behaviors (like removing and cleaning her bridge of false teeth at a restaurant table), the rest of us are on edge in her presence. (Before we found out what was wrong, we were constantly pissed off by these behaviors, to be honest.) If we're visiting for a few days and have had time to adjust to the new paradigm, it's o.k.; but when we haven't seen her in a while, the air is rife with frantic, unsaid thoughts.

Me: She can't even respond to a simple question. She's worse. Does Dad realize this? Do the kids? Can she be left alone anymore? Even in my kitchen?

Dad: Do the kids realize she's worse? Is she, or is it just my imagination? Does she...[thought interrupted by the need to stop his wife from shoveling an entire bowl of ice cream into her mouth in a few spoonfuls]

Son-in-law: She's really gone.

We used to love to hang out together as a family, particularly at restaurants, and often with alcohol. These things are pretty much out now; she gets very confused by crowds and menus, and alcohol makes her symptoms worse. Next time they do visit, though, I'll have to take over monitoring for a while. My father needs someone else to help him cope, if only for a few hours or days. As an only child, spoiled and self-centered, I have had quite the rude awakening. About time, you're thinking. I agree.

Besides, I found out the penalties for letting down my guard. As I was trying to get the kids in their pj's and at the piano while my parents got ready to leave, Mom put on her son-in-law's sneakers and wore them home.